


The Archivist Falls (In Love, Not to the Dark Side)

by SyntheticRevenge



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (Inherently because I can't write anything about Jon that isn't angst), Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, First Meetings, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, The Inherent Absurdity of Using Regular Names In Star Wars AUs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticRevenge/pseuds/SyntheticRevenge
Summary: There’s a place in the Galaxy for everyone. Jon’s is in the Archives. At first, when he was sent there as a child, he resented it, wanted to be back with Tim and Sasha and the other younglings, but it grew on him. The quiet, the reverence everyone holds for the place, the fact that so much of what there is to know in the Galaxy exists there.He doesn’t use the Force anymore. Hasn’t cut himself off, just doesn’t touch it. He doesn’t need to. He’s not afraid of it, fear is a path to the Dark Side, and he will never--never--use the Dark Side again.(Jonmartin first meeting, but make it Star Wars)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	The Archivist Falls (In Love, Not to the Dark Side)

**Author's Note:**

> This is so stupid and tiny but I couldn't get the AU out of my head, I hope someone likes it lmao.

The Force started rotting even before Geonosis, festering like an open wound. Possible to avoid further infection, possible to stop gangrene, to stop your soul from turning dark and hateful, to keep from Falling, but harder. It was like a song that pulled at every Force-sensitive. 

The Knights and Masters all discussed it in hushed whispers, trading worrying dreams, privately sharing the things they always felt on the edge of doing. Had to keep it quiet, though. Couldn’t let anyone lose faith in the Jedi, not now. 

Even Jon felt the rot, and he wasn’t a Jedi, not a proper one. Not after what happened. The Masters all said it wasn’t his fault, as he stood there shaking and dissociated, ears ringing, the moment the padawan--the one they say he killed--died a white-out blur in his mind.  _ He’s too young to have done it on purpose. _

The Dark just pulls on some people stronger than others. That’s what they told him, when they said he would never be a padawan, never be a Knight. They said it was alright. He would find his place, still, somehow. There’s a place in the Galaxy for everyone.

Jon’s is in the Archives. At first, when he was sent there as a child, he resented it, wanted to be back with Tim and Sasha and the other younglings, but it grew on him. The quiet, the reverence everyone holds for the place, the fact that so much of what there is to know in the Galaxy exists there. 

He doesn’t use the Force anymore. Hasn’t cut himself off, just doesn’t touch it. He doesn’t need to. He’s not  _ afraid _ of it, fear is a path to the Dark Side, and he will never-- _ never _ \--use the Dark Side again.

But he still feels the rot, deep in his guts, his chest, every nerve and cell in his body. Since he doesn’t use the Force, it’s easy enough to ignore, to push down and continue on. Not everyone’s so lucky.

Tim and Sasha stay as positive as ever, so Light it’s blinding, though it feels a lot more strained than it used to. They visit Jon when they have down time at the Temple, which is getting less and less as the war ramps up. It’s been more of a friendly formality lately, though, a product of being raised together and then life dragging them their separate ways. 

They’re legends now. Jon reads the files on them that come into the Archives, wanting to keep up. They managed to free an entire hemisphere of a planet from the Separatists more or less on their own--Tim’s raw strength and mental influencing abilities paired with Sasha’s mind-reading and general strategic prowess has always been a combination to be reckoned with.

Jon sometimes wonders what it would be like if he were out there with them, what he could add. Not much, he suspects. He was made for the Archives. 

It gets a bit lonely, though, especially now, with that siren song under his skin and in his veins, calling to him-- _ don’t you miss being powerful? Didn’t it feel good to give into the will of the living Force? _

And yes. Of course he does, of course it did. But he can’t be trusted. So he’s alone, and powerless, stuck reading about the things he could’ve been doing, filing them away where no one will ever touch them again. Doing endless research on far-off worlds he’ll never get to see to prepare the Jedi for senseless, unending violence.

People don’t generally come into the Archives much. Younglings come in to read about their heroes’ adventures, padawans do grunt research for their masters, but mostly, it’s empty. Silent.

It’s what he’s used to. It’s comfortable. Or it was, before the rot. He’s desperate for distraction these days, and his job isn’t enough. The histories, the scientific texts, even the myths and legends, none of it keeps his mind off of the Force.

Today, though, there’s someone he doesn’t recognize in the Archives, biting his knuckle absently and squinting up at the shelves. A human, with soft eyes and no connection to the Force. Jon can always feel that instantly. It’s something he pings without thinking about it.

He’s not sure what someone with no Force abilities is doing in the Archives, and asking will at least give him something new to do.

“Excuse me,” he says, crossing his arms. 

The man jolts, turning to face him and immediately flushing. “Oh! Hello.”

“Can I help you find something?” Jon asks, raising an eyebrow. “We don’t generally have non-Jedi in here.”

“I guess you don’t,” he says, laughing nervously. “Uh, who are you? Are you--the Archivist?”

“I’m  _ an _ Archivist,” Jon says, rapidly losing patience. “Who are  _ you _ ?”

“I’m, uh...I’m Martin,” the man says, half-smiling. 

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“I make--I build and maintain droids,” Martin says, scratching the back of his head. “For you guys--for the Jedi, I mean. And Chancellor Bouchard said--said you might need help? In the Archives?”

“We don’t need more droids,” Jon says, coolly. 

“Sure, but...he said you do,” Martin says. “So. You could work with me? Help me figure out what would be helpful for--”

“You leaving the Archives would be helpful for me.”

“Okay,” Martin says, voice small, looking at the ground. “Yeah. Alright.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Jon says, registering that he’s being unnecessarily cruel, but the Darkness itches inside him and he can’t help it.

“I just--uh--see, the thing is, I really don’t want the Chancellor to be mad at me for not doing what he said?” Martin says. “So...could I just...hang out in here? I’ll just sit and read quietly, I won’t bother you, I just want it to seem like--like I’m doing what I’m told.”

Jon sighs through his nose. “Fine.”

“Thanks,” Martin says, smiling so vibrantly Jon wonders if he misjudged him, and if there’s a dash of Light in him. 

“I’m Jon,” Jon says, giving a stilted, awkward half-wave in introduction.

“Do you, uh...do you have any recommendations?” Martin asks. “I always could use something new to read.”

“Nothing all that new, unless you’re particularly interested in either Rylothian poetry or the history of Corellia’s largest shipyard.”

“Those actually both sound pretty good.”

Jon almost smiles despite himself. “Just don’t make too much noise.”

“I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If anyone likes this, let me know, honestly, I kind of want to do more if people are into it. All feedback is appreciated <3  
> Find me on tumblr @witnesstotheend for more dumb content like this


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